


I Don't Have to Take No Trip to Outer Space

by Byrcca



Series: Little Trip to Heaven [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: But it’s really episode 02, Drive wedding, Episode: s07e03 Drive, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byrcca/pseuds/Byrcca
Summary: My take on the wedding we didn’t get to see in Drive, and the crew’s reaction.





	I Don't Have to Take No Trip to Outer Space

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this story has been in my head for about a decade. Six months ago, I read a Drive coda that was remarkably similar, and abandoned the thought of writing mine. But the second and third scenes got stuck in my head, and they needed an intro. So, here it is. 
> 
> I’ve been sitting on this for months, loving it a little less each time I reread it. I couldn’t find that other story again, though I’ve tried. It’s all been done before anyway.

The _Delta Flyer_ was tractored in and Tom and B’Elanna stayed onboard, kissing a little, cuddling a little, and just generally coming to terms with the mushyness of the moment. He’d asked—again—and she’d answered—finally—and all that was left now was the wedding and the cake. Joe Carey met them in the shuttlebay with a padd and a couple of junior engineers, but before they stepped out of the _‘Flyer_ , Tom put a finger to his lips. “Shhh.” She understood. A naturally private person, she was in no hurry to share their news. Their secret. 

“You two look a little worse for wear,” Joe greeted them.

“We’re fine, Joe,” B’Elanna answered. 

“Terrific, I’d say,” Tom added. He had a firm grip on her hand, and he smiled at her, love shining in his eyes. She grinned at him and squeezed his arm, and Tom almost pulled her into another kiss. 

Carey surveyed the shuttle. “Ok. Besides the warp core, what else is broken?”

Tom tore his eyes from B’Elanna’s face. “You know, Joe, we can go over all that later. We need to go see the captain now.”

“We do?” B’Elanna asked.

“Yeah.”

B’Elanna turned a little and gestured to the shuttle. “Now?”

Tom nodded and sent her what could only be described as a wicked smile. “Right now.” He hit his combage, his gaze intent on hers. “Paris to Janeway.”

 _“Janeway, here.”_ Her reply was prompt, of course. _“Are you two all right?”_

“We’re fine, Captain, but we’d like to see you in your ready room immediately.”

 _“Immediately?”_ Her tone registered surprise and a hint of worry.

“Oh, yeah,” Tom drawled, and he couldn’t hold back a grin. He tugged on B’Elanna’s hand and headed toward the door. 

_“I’ll meet you there. Janeway out.”_

**

Janeway was waiting for them when they arrived. “What’s this about? Are you two alright?” She repeated. They were disheveled and a little singed around the edges. 

B’Elanna opened her mouth to reply, but just laughed, shooting a look at Tom. “We’re great,” Tom said, grinning back. 

“Never better,” B’Elanna confirmed. 

They were almost bursting with joy and excitement. Giddy. They’d lost the race, uncovered a conspiracy, almost blown up the shuttle, and obviously been tossed around, but Kathryn suspected that something else was the reason for all this barely contained happiness. “What’s going on?” 

“We’d like to get married,” Tom answered. 

Janeway gasped. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Congratulations.” She took a step and reached toward them but stopped at B’Elanna’s next words.

“Right now.”

“Now?” 

“Immediately,” Tom confirmed. 

“But, this seems a little sudden,” Kathryn began. Shock had rooted her to the spot.

“We’ve been together or over three years,” B’Elanna said.

“Three years, four months, and seventeen—“

B’Elanna put her fingers to his mouth to quiet him. “Really? You know down to the day?”

He looked sheepish. “Actually, no. But I thought if I sounded convincing enough, I might win some ‘boyfriend points’.”

“Don’t you mean ‘fiancé points’?”

“Well,” Tom considered, “since I’m only going to be a fiancé for another five minutes, I’m not sure that’ll count.”

B’Elanna laughed and shook her head. “You won a gold star when you threw the race.”

Kathryn had been bemused by this little display, but she started back to life at that. “You threw the race?!” 

“Sorry, Captain. I had other priorities.” He caught B’Elanna’s hand again and kissed the back. She visibly softened. 

Janeway repressed a snort. B’Elanna turned to her. “So you’ll do it? You’ll marry us?” 

“Well, of course. But don’t you want to wait a bit, plan this?” she asked, visions of candlelight, flowers, long flowing dresses, and an ornately decorated cake dancing in her mind’s eye. They shook their heads. “Get cleaned up?” she tried. She eyed them up and down. “Change?” 

“I think we’re just fine like this,” B’Elanna assured her. 

_Well,_ she thought, _at least the bride’s wearing white_. “Okay, you win. Do you at least want someone to stand up with you? Harry?”

“Harry!” they exclaimed in unison. 

_Finally,_ Kathryn thought. She smacked her combadge. “Janeway to Ensign Kim.”

_“Kim here, Captain.”_

“Where are you, Harry?”

 _“I’m in sickbay, Captain_ ,” he replied. 

“Are you injured?” she asked, concern creeping over her. 

“ _No, ma’am. The doctor just want—_ ”

“Report to my ready room, Ensign,” she shot a glance at Tom. “Immediately.”

“ _On my way. Kim out._ ”

Janeway turned toward them. “Anything else we’ve forgotten? A bouquet, maybe?” 

Tom’s face brightened. He turned toward the replicator in the wall behind Janeway’s desk. “Do you want flowers? I can—” B’Elanna stopped him with a tug on his flight suit. 

“Why? Is all this some elaborate apology?”

Tom had the sense to look chagrined. “Of course not,” he said softly, “but maybe it should be.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t need an apology, Tom. I just need you.”

Though Janeway had always suspected B’Elanna had a softer side, this was very unlike her chief engineer. And Tom seemed to melt into her eyes. Kathryn cleared her throat. “This is just a stab in the dark, but knowing you,” she inclined her head toward Tom, “do you have rings?” Wedding rings were a bit of an archaic custom in the 24th century, so she figured Tom would insist on them. He smiled, but B’Elanna looked sceptical. 

“We have to,” he cajoled.

“Tom…” She shook her head. 

“Please. We have to.” 

B’Elanna relented. “Alright. But nothing flashy. Or flashing.” 

_Hallelujah_ , Kathryn thought and punched her fists into the air. 

“No toggles or switches, either.”

Tom grinned, again, and stepped toward the replicator, again, then paused. He looked sheepish. “I don’t think I have the rations. I’m sorry.”

“It’s on me,” Kathryn cut in. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

“Thank you, Captain,” they chorused. 

Janeway crossed to the replicator. “Any sort of design?” It was a long shot. 

“Just plain,” they said in unison. B’Elanna laughed. 

“Plain it is.” A captain had to know when to cut her losses. When to call a compromise a victory. She input the request, cross referenced with Tom and B’Elanna’s personal profiles and two shiny gold bands materialized on the replicator counter. Harry chose that moment to arrive. He walked up to his friends and looked them up and down. 

“You two all right?” he asked.

“Better than alright, Harry. We’re getting married.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“We’re getting married,” B’Elanna repeated. “And we want you here with us.”

“I...when?” 

“Right now.”

“What?” 

Tom laughed and clapped him on the back.

“We’ve already been over all that, Mister Kim. It’s best to just go with it,” Janeway advised. “So, you stand beside… oh hell, just stand.” She handed him the rings and stilled a moment. “I’ll have to look this up. I’ve never married anyone before.”

“Just wing it, Captain,” Tom advised.

She nodded. Of course. What else had she expected? She stared at their faces: expectant, joyful. Absolutely unhesitant. 

“Tom, B’Elanna, I’ve had the pleasure of watching the two of you grow from irascible infants into fine Starfleet officers. I’m so very proud of the people you’ve become.” She took their hands and tugged on them until they faced each other, then placed B’Elanna’s hand in Tom’s larger one. “And so, it’s not just my pleasure but my honour to join you in marriage. Of all the privileges I’ve been granted serving as a Starfleet captain, this is the greatest. 

“Tom, do you take B’Elanna as your wife?”

“Oh, I do.” His voice was velvet.

“B’Elanna, do you take Tom as your husband?”

“I do.” Her voice warbled, and Tom cupped her cheek in his palm. 

Kathryn had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. “Is there anything you two would like to say?”

“We should have done this years ago,” Tom said quietly.

“What makes you think I would have said yes years ago?” B’Elanna countered. Tom just grinned.

Kathryn waited a beat but that seemed to be all they were going to say. “Okay. Harry, the rings.”

Harry dropped both rings into Tom’s outstretched hand. Tom handed the smaller one to B’Elanna. “Oh yeah. Sorry,” Harry mumbled. 

B’Elanna gave back the smaller ring, and plucked the larger from Tom’s palm. “Oops,” he said. 

“Tom,” Kathryn prodded. He kissed the ring and silently slipped it onto B’Elanna’s finger. “B’Elanna?” She hesitated a moment, then followed Tom, kissing his ring before placing it on the third finger of his left hand.

“Harry, is there anything you’d like to say?” _What the hell_ , Kathryn thought, _might as well blow tradition right out the airlock._

He still looked confused. “What happened in the ‘ _Flyer_?” His friends just smiled. 

“Then all that’s left is for me to make this official. Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, with the power vested in me by Starfleet Command and the United Federation of Planets, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Be kind to each other.”

Tom grabbed B’Elanna by the waist and pulled her against him, picking her up and swinging her in a circle, kissing her with merry abandon. Kathryn and Harry stepped back. When he put her down, Kathryn hugged them in succession. “Now we need to plan the party,” she said. B’Elanna looked like it hadn’t even occurred to her. 

“Don’t forget the honeymoon.” This from Harry. 

“I wonder if we can get any of that Holodeck time back?” B’Elanna mused. 

Tom cocked his head. “I have a better idea.” B’Elanna raised an eyebrow, but Tom held up his hand then smacked his combadge. “Paris to Lieutenant Carey.”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“How are you coming on the ‘ _Flyer_ , Joe?” Paris asked.

“It would easier to list what you didn’t break,” came Carey’s dry reply. 

“Can you just concentrate on the port thrusters and the internal sensors for now?” He was watching B’Elanna watch him. “And check life support. And the replicator.” 

“Okay…? Sure.” 

“Thanks, Joe.” He turned to the captain, “Tell them.”

“Tell who?” Kathryn asked. 

“The crew, everyone.”

“Tom…” B’Elanna began, frowning.

“Isn’t it better if everyone finds out at once? No gossip, just confirmation. Then no one will speculate ‘are we’ or ‘aren’t we’.”

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think they’ll speculate on why we did it now?”

“I still am,” Harry quipped. 

“Okay,” she relented and turned to the captain. “Go ahead.”

“What do you want me to sa— Wing it, right.” She crossed to her desk and tapped in a command. “Could I have your attention, please. This is the captain. It’s my great pleasure to announce that Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres have just been married! Reception to follow when we figure out what we’re doing.” She raised an eyebrow at Tom. 

“Also,” Tom added, “I love my wife!” It was an exaltation, and it echoed through the sudden silence on the ship. B’Elanna laughed and smacked him on the shoulder. 

Kathryn cut the channel; she could swear she heard the swell of confused chatter ripple through the ship. Just then Chakotay burst into the ready room. 

“Really?” Chakotay asked. Harry shrugged. 

“Really.” B’Elanna confirmed. He enfolded her in a bear hug, then shook Tom’s hand and slapped him on the back. 

“You know I’ll be watching,” Chakotay warned. 

“Bring it on,” Tom countered. 

**

Six hours later, sleepy and sated and snuggled together in the back of the _Delta Flyer_ , Tom pulled his brand new wife more firmly into his arms and dropped a kiss on the tip of her ear. They were lying on a mattress that someone must have dragged through _Voyager’s_ corridors, limbs entangled, and cozy. They’d discovered it made up with silky sheets, poofy blankets, and piled with a dozen pillows, most of which were now scattered on the remaining floor space. Rose petals had been sprinkled over the bed—Joe Carey? surely not—and Tom plucked one from B’Elanna’s hair. 

“Did you mean what you said,” she asked, her voice a quiet murmur. 

“Probably,” Tom replied. “Maybe? That I love my wife? I really, really love my wife.” He squeezed her and kissed her under the ear. She turned in his arms and looked at him. 

“Not that.”

“Then what?” He paused. “Would it make you happy or angry if I meant what I said?” 

B’Elanna chuckled. “To be honest, I’m not sure.” He raised an eyebrow. “That we should have gotten married years ago,” she clarified. 

Tom looked at her thoughtfully. “Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t know. How we were then…” Her voice trailed off. 

“Well,” Tom began, “it might have made our relationship a little smoother.” She raised an eyebrow and snorted. “A little,” he insisted. “I’d never want it too smooth. That would be boring.”

“No chance of that. How?”

“Well, there were a couple of times when I wanted to say something but I didn’t really think I could. I should.”

“Like when?” She was interested now.

“How about when you volunteered to become a Borg?!”

“You objected.”

“And you didn’t listen to me.”

“There wasn’t really any other option.”

“I could think of a dozen!” He replied with heat. “The first one being, just don’t.” 

“We may be married now, Tom, but I can still make my own decisions.” Her tone was measured, her voice even. 

They weren’t really going to start a fight on their wedding night, were they? Tom sighed. “Of course you can.” His memory skittered over that time B’Elanna had been attacked by that parasitic life form. Crell Moset. She almost hadn’t forgiven him for voicing his opinion. “I just want you to take my opinions seriously.”

“I always take you seriously.” She gazed into his vivid blue eyes, his expression so sincere, and kissed him softly. 

“B’Elanna, if I ever piss you off or let you down tell me, okay?” He wasn’t a mind reader, and not anticipating B’Elanna’s thoughts had almost ended their relationship. 

“Okay.” She looked at him for another moment then settled against him, her head on his chest, arm draped over his ribs. 

“Are you hungry?”

“Ha,” B’Elanna laughed, “I probably won’t be hungry for a week!” When they’d arrived in the _‘Flyer_ , a chilled bottle of champagne had awaited them, along with a picnic basket lovingly packed by Neelix. He may have been cheated out of catering a party, but he’d outdone himself on the wedding feast: strawberries and cream, smoked oysters, jibalian berry salad, spicy paraka wings, potato salad, and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts trimmed off. 

“Neelix hit all the highlights, huh,” Tom grinned. 

B’Elanna was thinking of the note they’d found from Chakotay, informing them that they now possessed more than a month’s supply of replicator rations, a pass-the-hat wedding gift from the crew. “Everyone’s been so thoughtful.”

“Well, they’d deny you nothing.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that!” she laughed. 

“Are you kidding? Neelix would do anything for you. Should I be jealous?” he teased. 

B’Elanna thought about the strange turn her life had taken in the last couple of days: getting relationship advice from Neelix and Seven, of all people. “He’s a good friend. So,” she continued, “where do want to live when we get back to _Voyager_?”

“I dunno. I hadn’t thought of it. I guess we could trade off; one night at my place, one night at yours.”

“That could get confusing,” she hedged.

“We could squeeze in together. It might be fun to bump into you every time I turn around.”

“Your quarters are larger, but mine are better laid out.”

“I have a bigger closet.”

“Because you have more clothes!”

“As long as you still have your Maquis boots, you could walk around naked for all I care.” His smile was wicked. “We could stay here…”

“On the _Delta Flyer_?”

“Sure, why not? It’s cozy, comfortable. We have the universe at our fingertips.”

“I think the Captain might object if we commandeered her new shuttle.” 

“We built it, and christened it,” he waggled his eyebrows, “I say it’s ours. … _a little home, just built for two, from which I’ll never roam, who would, would you?_ ” 

“That’s lovely, but it doesn’t sound very rock and roll.”

“Early twentieth century mushiness,” Tom confirmed. “Computer, play Paris Mushy Music 3.” The cabin filled with a soft, jazzy tune and a singer’s smooth baritone. 

_It's very clear_  
_Our love is here to stay_  
_Not for a year, but forever and a day…_

At B’Elanna’s raised eyebrow, Tom explained, “Frank Sinatra, he was an American singer from the—“

“Twentieth century,” B’Elanna supplied.

“Yeah. _Old Blue Eyes_ , reputed to be able to charm the underwear off any woman aged twenty to eighty.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“I’ve already been charmed out of my underwear by a pair of blue eyes,” she replied.

He grinned and ran his palm across her hip and down her thigh. “Also rumoured to be involved in the mob. Hey! We should write a holoprogramme! How about Chicago in the 1930’s? Mobsters, molls, speakeasies. It could be really fun!”

“Sure,” B’Elanna smiled. “But when did you get time to make your mushy music?” Between the impromptu wedding, running the gauntlet of congratulations between the Captain’s ready room and her quarters, getting cleaned up, making an appearance at the after-race party, then seeing to assignments in engineering so they could be off ship for the next two days, B’Elanna had barely had time to turn around. 

“I’m a master of many things,” Tom said mysteriously. 

“I’ll say.” Her voice was husky.

“Actually, it’s something I’ve had lying around for a couple of years.”

“Presumptuous.”

“Hopeful,” Tom murmured, leaning in for long, slow kiss.

 

_The radio_  
_And the telephone_  
_And the movies that we know_  
_May just be passing fancies and in time may go_  
_But oh my dear_  
_Our love is here to stay_  
_Together we're going a long long way_  
_In time the Rockies may crumble_  
_Gibraltar may tumble_  
_They're only made of clay_  
_But our love is here to stay_

 

**

_Meanwhile, back on Voyager…_

Harry Kim pursed his lips and blew a puff of air. “No one was even close.” 

“Oh, come on,” Joe Carey exclaimed, “this one had a ten day plus/minus. Someone must have been close.”

“Nope.”

“So, what happens to the pot?” Mike Ayala asked. They were seated in the dimmed mess hall, and people had been surreptitiously asking Harry about the results of the bet all evening. It had been on the books for the last two years, more because Harry had refused to allow a line on ‘the date they break up for good’ despite their reputation for loud disagreements. He suspected someone had run a ‘date B’Elanna breaks Tom’s nose’, though if it were him, he’d have entered ‘bone’ with a spread for nose, arm, clavicle. _Now there was an idea_ , he thought. He didn’t know much about Klingon mating practices, but he did recall something about a broken clavicle. Alas, there would be no way to prove it. B’Elanna would sure as hell never tell. 

“I guess we’ll just roll it into the next bet.”

“Well, if we’re talking milestones, it’ll have to be pregnancy,” Joe stated. 

“You think she’s pregnant?” Harry asked, surprised. It hadn’t even occurred to him, though it might account for the rush with the wedding. 

Joe shrugged. “I don’t think it would right to wager on a divorce.” 

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “First pregnancy. The day it’s announced?” 

“If they announce anything,” Mike said. 

“Yeah, I can just see B’Elanna not saying a word, just getting bigger and bigger, daring everyone to ask.” This from Harry.

“Won’t be me,” Joe said

Harry thought a moment. “Okay, date it’s announced—or becomes so obvious that everyone can figure it out—due date, time, sex of the baby—“

“Twins?” From Ayala.

“Multiple or single, weight. Anything else?” This one was complicated, but they had a lot of rations to play with. 

“Born beside the warp core because B’Elanna won’t leave engineering?” Carey offered.

“Jeffries tube?” Harry laughed.

“Fluidic space, trapped in a turbo lift, on the holodeck, on the bridge?”

“Give me Borg cube,” Ayala chipped in. “I’m serious, two rations.” He drummed a finger on the table. Harry shrugged and tapped his padd.

“In the middle of a fight with some pissed off alien species?”

“In the middle of a party with some friendly alien species?” Harry countered. 

“Tom faints,” Ayala offered.

“Seven of Nine as midwife,” said Carey, doing his best Seven impression. “ ‘Pain is irrelevant, Lieutenant. Push!’”

“Enough, enough!” Harry laughed. He put down the padd and raised his cup of coffee. “To Tom and B’Elanna, may their lives together be happy, exciting, and full of enough adventures to keep the replicator rations flowing.”

“Hear, hear.”

**

Oh my dog, just END already!

**Author's Note:**

> Songwriters: George Gershwin / Ira Gershwin  
> Love Is Here To Stay lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Songs Music Publishing, Raleigh Music Publishing
> 
> Gratitude and apologies to Tom Waites. I’ve thought of only two titles on my own and neither has a story. Go figure.


End file.
